


The Architect and the Librarian

by Corehealer



Series: Burden and Belonging: Sarah's Shadow - Emet-Selch/WoL Ship Shadowbringers and Ongoing FFXIV Fanfiction [6]
Category: Ascian - Fandom, Final Fantasy XIV, Shadowbringers - Fandom
Genre: Art, Creation, F/M, Gen, Memory, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Other, Soul Bond, The Convocation of Fourteen (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:28:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27047242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corehealer/pseuds/Corehealer
Summary: Sarah and Emet-Selch have begun their journey around Eorzea, starting with Ishgard, accompanied by Krile, Urianger and Y'shtola who are eager to learn more of her past through him and his recollections, as well as learn more about the ancient world and Amaurot. During their journey to the See, the conversation drifts into unexpected reminiscences for the Warrior of Light, that show her more then she expected as to the circumstances of her former life, prior to becoming Azem.Continuing series themes/stretching things a bit further into the realm of both fleshing out a bit of the nature of Amaurot's society as well as my character's Azem headcanon. Expect to see more of the same as we continue to visit each city, and visit more places in memories. Also, an exploration of souls and how memories might work in concert with the aether of a soul.This work is dedicated to Ozma (the floating orb) and Ozma (the author here on AO3), the latter of whom being someone who has long been proficient in the Ascian fandom and an endless source of inspiration to me and my writing this past month. Thank you so much for coaxing me into sharing my work here and contributing to this fandom and our shared affection for the Ancients.
Relationships: Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light
Series: Burden and Belonging: Sarah's Shadow - Emet-Selch/WoL Ship Shadowbringers and Ongoing FFXIV Fanfiction [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913674
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	1. The Language of Her Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ozma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ozma/gifts).



_Where we walked, the stars themselves followed._

_Where city lights gave way to endless canopies, gentle waves and iridescent seas, I traveled._

_In snow and heat and roaring storm, at all hours of the day._

_Hand in hand with my brothers and sisters. My peers. My friends._

_And ever to return home, to more brothers, sisters, peers. Dearest friends._

_To Him. Arms outstretched to receive me. A warm meal, a warm bed. His warmth, boundless as the starry sky._

_Fingers through my hair…_

***

She had been daydreaming again. Memories of the past, a life so long and full of images and feelings, of places and people long gone, stretched out further and further back in time before her.

The wall holding her soul from that imprinted knowledge had long since given way to a gradual streaming out of consciousness; of all the tastes and sights and smells as vivid as the days, thousands of years prior, when they first had graced her former form, towering as it had been in the fullness of herself. The memories seemed to come without end, a new constant in her mind.

The wall had given way to so much, but she knew she’d only graced the barest surface of that former life. It would perhaps take her the rest of her own, current existence to piece it back together. Could it ever be put back together?

And she knew on some level, it would probably never be complete in the sense it had been, no matter her own desires on the matter. Certainly, it would not be as it once was, even if she reclaimed everything. Even, in the farfetched chance, that she were to merge with her remaining shards, whoever they were, as she had with Ardbert.

But that did not seem to matter much, the more she reflected on it. So much had changed after all, and for every tragedy that had befallen her and the Star and the people she had known, in the end these things had also had a silver lining of sorts. They had forced needed change, at least from her current point of view, and this in turn brought about a desire in her heart for a new way of being. A synthesis of fate, betwixt Light and Dark. Something unlike the Amaurot of old, the Ancient world, but not wholly unlike it either. A blending of the past, the present, and the future.

A better future she would share gladly with all, if she could but find the way to it offered by her own past, not least in the form of the man now walking next to her as they entered the snowy climes of Coerthas on their way to Ishgard, passing Aurum Vale.

It had been a little over a week now. Since she had coaxed him at last from the stone that bore her office, her memories, and his soul shard. In all that time, he had hardly been away from her side. Both of them cherishing at last a long awaited reunion. Mingling together in memory and learning of each other. They both had much to learn of one another, things being as they were.

And she was never happier then when she beheld his smile when she had some new memory of her life before to impart, to which he always had a clarifying word, or a joking comment, usually when Hythlodaeus came to mind.

When memory drifted towards thoughts of their time together in their home in Amaurot, such as her wandering words in the journal he had gifted to her, and the dreams she had written down even then for the future, he only ever responded the same way. With a kiss to her forehead.

Soft yellow eyes that could melt even the coldest ice encrusting Halone’s halls. And his smile. The sweetest she had ever known.

Strange and terrible sights came too to trouble her, awful memories of the Final Days or even more mundane reminiscences. No relationship, even in ancient days, was without its bad moments when an argument came about be it something petty or something driven by a deeper anxiety. And she was as stubborn and unforgiving then as she was now. She could ruffle his feathers plenty, and it had not always landed well upon his ego, or his heart weighed down with the pressures of his role. Their lives were busy then, often separated for long periods, being as they were so important to the maintenance of their utopia. Shepherds of different flocks, but united in staunch desire to serve the people and the Star. To protect them, be they living or dead. And guide them to a better tomorrow.

That desire had not changed. The reasons for the arguments and moments of lapsing judgement might have, but the passion for their future remained as bright as ever. The nature of their service and the nature of their people and the Star may have changed, but their commitment had not. It had only been locked at cross purposes. At least, until recently. When they had, in their own ways, saved each other.

Now perhaps she could right the ship. Now perhaps he could make amends. Now perhaps they could try again. Together.

“I know that look. She’s been lost in thought again, probably wondering what she’ll say to Aymeric and the House of Lords and Commons when she arrives.” Y’shtola’s familiar voice, playful in her ear. Echoing their current purpose; the first journey to one of the cities of Eorzea, therein to make them aware of her current condition, and of that of the Scions. And, of course, of Emet-Selch.

Emet walked to her left, Y’shtola to her right, and they in turn were flanked by Krile to his left and Urianger to her right. The three Sharlayans had been eager to continue their discussions with the Angel of Truth, among other things, and had elected to join the two of them as they walked. Y’shtola had desired a bit of cool, fresh air to ‘remind’ her lungs that she was alive again, in the Source. Urianger wanted to see how the astrologians in the Pillars were getting on, and if their entreaties of late to Sharlayan had been met with persisting resistance. Krile simply wanted to get out of the Stones for a while; she’d nary had a break from her work or tending the Scions dormant bodies in prior weeks and months. Sarah was glad for the company, as was Hades.

In truth, she and Emet could have easily just taken the aetheryte to Ishgard, or even an airship or one of her mounts, but she preferred to make this journey a chance to give him time away from the less agreeable among her allies and friends, and to spend time seeing things as she did. An educational experience. At a slower pace. Less teleporting, more moving one’s feet in travel. The language of her life, both past and present. An awareness not lost upon him, as he shuffled along in his aethereal form, brown robe of the Toll now replaced by a warm black coat that seemed to evoke an eclectic mix of his Ascian robes and the fur lined emperor attire he had worn as Solus. He didn’t really need to keep warm, but it felt appropriate, given the locale and the subtext.

He laughed and smirked at her. “ _She has always had her head off in the clouds, mind always racing along many tracks. One for food, another for new spell creations, and yet more for what she will do on the morrow as if the present wasn’t busy enough! Can’t stand still for long, even in her head.”_

 _“I don’t know how she keeps that jumble together_.” The others chuckled, Sarah scoffing and snapping back to the present with a swish of her tail.

“As if you’re one to talk! A whole wing of the Akadaemia could be filled with the many disparate thoughts that run through that scheming mind of yours.”

“ _I do admit to having a tad more experience in such matters, given my former occupation, tis true. But a whole wing? I find that quite hard to believe hero_.”

Urianger interjected. “Whilst you were distracted, our newest comrade was presently regaling us as to stories of that storied edifice and the many extraordinary concepts that could once be found within. T’would seem you perhaps recall a bit of what he speaks?”

“My memories have been returning more often and more detailed of late, thanks in large part to his influence, yes. But in truth I still know about as much as you and Y’shtola do of the place from when we explored his recreation of it.”

She thought for a moment.

“I have to ask; did Lahabrea really come up with all those pegasi all on his own?”

Emet shook his head.

“ _Oh my no, the majority of the concepts in the Words of Lahabrea were collaborative efforts. Many eminent phantomologists contributed their creativity and energy to the formation of those concepts you bore witness to. Atramandes for example, was a friend of yours as I recall, who worked there as one of those who specifically assisted in the formation of the horses and pegasi in the stables section. Right next to the chocobos_.”

Their collective eyebrows widened. Krile was the first to ask the question that sprang into their minds.

“Chocobos? Another creation of the ancients too?”

“ _Of course! The majority of the creatures one will find on the Source and, indeed, any of the shards, are all concepts come to life and sundered into whole species of their own, mirroring on a lesser level the splitting of the sentient souls of the ancients. They have since however grown beyond the intentions of their creators and become in some cases unique expressions of the Star’s evolving nature, or adapting to changing circumstances following a Calamity._ ”

He placed a hand to his chin in thought, thinking back on this matter as his audience became more attentive, soft footfalls in the snow the only other sound in the frigid air.

“ _The Akadaemia was not the only such institution to hold the collective creativity of our age, however. I believe our dear hero traveled to the physical remains of Anamnesis on the First, as well. A storage facility for the largest scale creations of our finest minds, such as Lahabrea’s Phoenix. And…_ ”

He trailed off; eyes slightly downcast.

“ _Well. Let us just say it was the place that offered us the greatest insight into how to bring about Zodiark. Research that went also into creating Hydaelyn, in the end. Lahabrea spent many months there during the times leading to the Final Days, working himself into a near frenzy to bring that solution to bear. Venat was among those who helped him, I recall, but I was not privy to every detail of what went on there. She took their work and… you know the rest well enough_.”

There was a moment of silence as those who had returned from the First considered his words, and in particular the hazy blue recording of Venat and the other summoners of Hydaelyn, discussing their conviction towards shackling Zodiark.

Krile, having only heard of this later second hand, decided to try and lighten the air a bit again by changing the subject slightly.

“Were there any other places where such things were conceived as well? Or perhaps any centers of general knowledge unrelated to concepts?”

Emet’s face perked back up again, smiling. He turned to Sarah.

“ _In fact, there was a place that was both of these things in one, within the center of Amaurot, not far from the Capitol though a bit out of the way from the Anyder or any of the Bureaus. One of my favourite places to visit, most especially because of who administered it for a long time prior to her joining me in the Convocation…_ ”

The Sharlayans turned to Sarah, eyes widening slightly. She herself blushed, having a bit of an inkling as to what he was referring to, though much of that aspect of her former life yet remained shrouded from her.

“ _The Polylerites, what once passed for a sort of peacekeeping force among the citizenry, used to have fits dealing with occasionally overzealous visitors to her domain; our people were ever voracious in their desire for knowledge, and some among them were wont to steal a book here or a concept crystal there for personal research when their passions got the better of them. Rather than berate them for their selfishness or deny them access to what they sought, however, our dear hero was often moved to assist these seekers of truth with their work and provide them access to yet more of the works held within the place she practically called home for an age. She returned what they had taken, and provided instead her own insights directly, and access to ideas and tomes more suited to their individual tastes and purposes. She had a knack for reading what people needed, not unlike reading a book even by its cover_.”

His reminiscence of this part of her history seemed to practically draw tears of happiness from his eyes, but he held them back, given their company. The others smiled, listening. She remembered that night in Amaurot, when she had sought to remember him, and how vividly she recalled that place where they had spoken of Azem. Of life and death. And then, of love.

“ _It was one of the things about her that drew me to her, time after time. We began our relationship together, after one of those visits, not long before she joined us in turn and passed the torch of scholarly stewardship to others_.”

Urianger spoke, a note of kind acknowledgement at these revelations and with a bit of eagerness, smiling at the thought of his longtime companion once being a surpassing scholar not unlike himself or any of the learned men and women of his motherland. “Now this seems a fine topic of conversation indeed. Pray continue, and regale us of our champion’s former occupation in sagely work, I prithee.”

Emet nodded, returning the smile, and beginning to weave the memory into words.

“ _The Cocytus Library. Named for the river that flowed before it among Amaurot’s many canals, and for the mythical river upon which it had been named in turn. A place from the Underworld, itself full of rivers of souls. Our ancestors envisioned the library to be a river of knowledge, akin to a river of souls, full of ideas flowing in and out of it freely and growing with the spark of creative action and new concepts, new ways of being_.”

He stretched out his arms for reference, taking in the midday sun and cloudy skies above as if to paint a picture of some vaulted room, vast and filled with shelves. Each listener gazed up in imagination as he continued.

“ _In Cocytus, this belief found its purest expression; never was there a building that so choked under the weight of so much knowledge and so many creative souls. So much writing, creative and academic, fictional and non-fictional. Works that stretched from the beginning of our world’s long history to the very day prior to the Sundering, when the most popular topics involved, unsurprisingly, Zodiark, Hydaelyn, the Final Days, the Sound. The research and speculation accumulated on such things_.”

He pointed at Sarah.

“ _And she was among their greatest minds. Chosen as much to become Azem for her tireless work and compassion in service as the Chief Librarian as for her own restless desire to see the world. A place she had only read about, prior to joining the Convocation_.”

“That certainly sounds like her, as half of Ul’dah can relate having seen her be a fixture in the Ossuary these many years.” Y’shtola chuckled in her usual manner, thinking back on the moments she had performed black magic experiments with Sarah among the thaumaturges there.

“Our dear Warrior of Light has loved spending time with a nose in her books as often as on the road or on the field of battle. She’s practically the pre-eminent scholar of black magic in Eorzea now, devoted as she’s been to Ququruka and Shatotto’s legacy. She was especially taken with… what did the Mhachian sorcerers call it? That arcane construct you found in the ruins of Mhach some years ago.”

“Ozma.” She murmured, still embarrassed by this sudden outpouring of praise for her.

At this name, Emet rose both his eyebrows.

“ _Ahhhh… Did I hear that correctly_?”

She turned to him, the others listening intently while still musing on this image of her as a librarian.

“The Baldesions too, were interested in it. They had a few recreations of it, in the Arsenal, for research purposes. One was chocobo sized and I… couldn’t resist binding it to me and using it as a mount.”

“Sarah, that thing ate the city of Nym.” Y’shtola folded her arms, coyly teasing her.

“And?” She shrugged. “That was hardly my fault, and I promise I made sure it couldn’t be a danger to anyone before I took it away from Eureka.”

He chuckled. Of course she would use it for such a purpose now.

“ _She created that too, you know. Originally, alongside Emmerololth and Igeyorhm as I recall. A collaboration in her earlier years. As an object of art that would adorn the entrance hall of the Library_.”

“Really?” Excitement perked up in her tone as she turned back to Emet. Another thing she was unaware of from that other time.

“ _It was part of a complex concept contest, one hosted periodically by the Akadaemia to inspire new generations of creators and encourage more citizens to take up employment in the various Words. Ozma was her attempt to create something that would change shape, colour and texture based on the desire and preference of the viewer, and the Convocation was so interested in the idea that Emme and Ige volunteered to assist her.”_

He narrowed his eyes a moment, tapping his chin with a single gloved finger.

 _“But they couldn’t work out all the kinks, and ultimately decided to store it as a prototype to revisit later. Each of them possessed a copy of it. I saw hers many times in her office in the Library, as a statue-like projection_.”

“ _In truth, we were also evaluating with such contests potential candidates for future vacancies in the Convocation. As we did from time to time. Her attempt at such a work, even without success, was lauded as a creative use of something that outwardly appeared so simple, resembling basic shapes as it did.”_

He looked back towards her, motioning his hands in her direction once more.

 _“She had slowly risen to some prominence, especially as the Chief Librarian. Not an accomplished concept creator, but an avid author and dutiful purveyor of learning, well regarded by all. When the former Azem passed, a meeting was held, and the first name to come to our lips to take that seat was hers. Persephone_.”

Her compatriots had never heard her former name before now. Krile was practically beaming as she looked up at Emet recall these memories while glancing at Sarah’s developing reaction.

“Persephone. A beautiful name.” Y’shtola smiled as Sarah’s face began to turn a shade of red, almost purple against her blue cheeks, dipping her face beneath her wide brimmed hat. She decided she’d try and change the subject a bit herself now, with help from her favourite _concept_.

“ _It amuses me greatly to think of you riding it arou-_ ” Emet was cut off mid-sentence by the sudden appearance of a large shifting silver cube, changing colour rapidly before falling into an image of the Baldesion Arsenal as it was now in Eureka, the former Isle of Val.

Sarah patted the side of it as if it was a friendly pet. The shape simply hummed a low lyrical tone, the image within remaining static.

“It possesses no will, but I still think of it fondly, not unlike my more living mounts and pets.”

“ _I haven’t seen it in ages… might I borrow it for a moment_?”

She nodded, quizzically assessing his interest as he stepped forward to regard it and place his hands upon its sharp angles.

With a brief motion, he waved his right hand over it and the image changed from the Arsenal to an altogether different house of knowledge.

“ _The entrance to your old home, as it was the night we finally embraced one another my dear. Sometimes it is better to show rather than merely tell_.” An immaculate, gold and marble building, pillared and stately yet warm and inviting, glowing in the light of numerous crested lamps and recessed lights. A fountain lapping lazily before it, statues of various individuals and artistic expressions flanking the doors and walkways leading inside. A night sky above and behind it flanked in turn by countless, increasingly familiar spires.

Krile was the first to speak, rousing from the all-encompassing stupor brought about by this scene. “By the Twelve… and you lot saw all this in person? At the ocean’s bottom? This fair puts all of Sharlayan to shame!”

“Not this building specifically, but yes.” Y’shtola nodded. “The phantom city he created was a… unforgettable sight, even without ready access to a library of all things.”

“For a mercy, had I been granted passage into this place, I dare to wonder if I wouldst ever have wished to leave…” Urianger turned to Sarah, whose eyes were fixed squarely on the image, unable to look away.

“To have been given responsibility for such a great repository, t’would have been a great honour my friend.”

She did not respond, listing slowly towards the image before collapsing suddenly into the snow next to the road. Snapping from their regard for the image, the other four leapt to her side, calling her name.

“Sarah!”

“Are you all right?”

“ _Her Echo… something is coming to her. Raise her upright, gently_.”

“Allow me.” Urianger propped her up into a seated position and tended to her, as the others huddled close. Emet placed a hand upon her forehead, attempting to gauge the nature of her vision.

***

The doors flung open with a start, and she rushed up the leftmost staircase towards her office on the second floor.

Robed figures flashed past her as she ran, barely avoiding bumping into her as she made her way to her door and rapidly opened and closed it with a thud.

She placed a stack of research notes upon her desk and collapsed unceremoniously into her chair. A moment to breathe, at last, away from prying eyes. She sighed deeply from beneath her mask.

“Another failed experiment. How many is that now? You’d think I’d learn better than to try and rush ahead with something so untested… ugh.”

She shook her head before reaching for one of the documents she had carried, rereading her notes and calculations. A brief sketch, probably hardly legible to any but her. She couldn’t quite make it out anymore, the inks had smeared again.

“I must make sure to acquire another batch, fresher this time…”

She placed fingers to her temples, massaging them gently.

“I must have looked like a fool to them today. I need to try something else, or come up with a better solution to its stability… hmm.”

She began to write within the margins between her notes, adjustments to her work. Some changes to the balance of the elements, perhaps? A few moments passed.

A sudden knock at the door.

“Come in.”

The door opened and closed. The confident footfalls of someone she had not expected to see. She gazed up from her notes, almost leaping out of her chair.

“Speaker Lahabrea?! To what do I owe this sudden honour of your visit?”

He smiled at her from beneath his deep red mask, looking almost fatherly. A small white envelope was in his hands. He placed it on her desk.

“Your invitation. You departed the Anyder before it could be presented to you. For the contest, remember?”

She shook her head, still recovering from the shock of the presence of the Convocation’s Speaker in her office, of all places.

“Forgive me Speaker; while I appreciate this honour, I must politely decline. Especially after today’s errors in the Words of Halmarut, it would do the city a disservice to take up a slot in the Forum when others with more successful and promising concepts abound. This invitation should go to one of them.”

He shook his head slowly.

“Nonsense. You misunderstand; a concept need not be successful in the conventional sense to be considered for the Forum showing. This is as much about furthering the education of our brightest minds as it is about producing concepts that will one day contribute to the health and wellbeing of the Star.”

He sat down in one of the guest chairs placed before her desk.

“And besides, if you feel less then confident in the work you’ve attempted thus far, there is still time to produce something new. A surprise for the audience. All ideas are welcome, especially on a city holiday.”

She drew her head down, embarrassment from her earlier failure that day wedging into her anxiety at having such a renowned creator in her office. Chief Librarian though she may be now, she was still but a child compared to those who sat in the Capitol. Or at least, so she thought, never having interacted with them much aside from one particular individual…

“Come now Persephone. I always have time to assist creators of all skill levels, and I have been eager to see you return to the Forum again since the day you shared those beautiful flowers with us all. Tell me what troubles you and your work. Perhaps I or another member of the Convocation can assist? Or some of the researchers in the Words?”

She hesitated. “I couldn’t possibly…”

“Our time is as much yours as it is any others.” He thought for a moment, then leaned into her desk, arms resting on it as he steepled his fingers.

“I dare say our dear Emet-Selch already spends a great deal of time here, these days. He has nothing but praise for your work here. I was hoping to see it for myself, having been impressed with your earlier concepts.”

Lahabrea… _liked_ my flowers? To this she was only silent, lost in that thought, unable to speak.

“He did say you were a tad shy about this topic. My apologies, if I have given offense or… perhaps been a bit overwhelming? You do not need to attend the contest if you so desire.”

She looked back up at him with a start. “No no no, I- what I mean to say is… I appreciate the gesture, truly, and I would love to participate it’s just… I’ve come to a bit of a ‘creator’s block’ as it were. I’m not quite sure what I could possibly offer that would be worthy of being shown to the whole city.”

“You yourself have proven that even the simplest concepts can produce profound and heartfelt reactions from people. It need not be anything so extravagant as, say, the works we are researching in Anamnesis. And of course, one must walk before one can run when it comes to complexity.”

He looked across her desk a moment before settling his eyes on a simple silver cube, with black filigree lines common to nearly everything in Amaurot with it’s fashionable inclination towards artistic decoration on all flat surfaces. The cube was presently bookending a small stack of her favourite tomes, including one she had written about the history of the Library, alongside another copy of the same cube.

He picked up the cube closest to him carefully so as to not disturb the stack, and then moved his hands over it for another moment before placing it gently before her on her desk.

“Sometimes I find the best starting point for a new concept is as simple as looking at the most basic shapes in nature and mathematics, such as a cube, and considering how it might be molded to suit a given purpose or desire.”

She stared at the cube, it’s silvery surface blurrily reflecting her features back at her.

“Hmm.. perhaps something reflective, that can speak to the sensibilities of any given viewer? Maybe… that can change shape?”

“Ambitious. Perhaps a bit too much, unless you were to try pairing this with other simple shapes?”

At this, the solution finally came to her in a flash of insight.

“An art piece! For the Library of COURSE!” She bolted from her chair to his surprise and began rummaging through her bookshelves and drawers to her left before settling on a solitary piece of paper, slightly sepia in tone from age. She placed it before him.

“I take it you drew this?”

“An idea I had a long time ago, in my youth, for a type of concept that could record memories and images like a journal, with emphasis on emotion. Something that could impart to a viewer a sense of the emotional impact of a memory or image, be it their own or an artist’s impression. But which could be seen by anyone who viewed it, rather than something soul bound like your own Convocation crystal or my Cocytan libram.” She placed her stone of office next to the page, a thin rectangular crystal wafer of simple design with a stylistic tome on its upper face.

“Very ambitious indeed, even with simple shapes. I can see this being an excellent entry idea, but one that might require the insights of others to make it real. You can of course elicit aid and supervision for this effort if you wish.”

“I’ll need to polish out the details a bit certainly but… I think we’re onto something here.”

“What will you call it?”

She thought for a moment. “I originally named it an Oghma, in reference to old journals kept by our ancestors in the traditional manner to record their lives, but… I’ll need to think on it a bit. Maybe something similar.”

“Well, I must admit I think it would look wonderful in the lobby here, if you could execute it. Even without the image functions, it would be beautiful.”

He placed the silver cube next to the drawing and pointed at it demonstratively.

“Ah, for example, to create a reflective surface, you might try…” Lahabrea leaned in and took a quill and ink from her desk near to her notes from today, and began to write out arcane patterns in the margins of the paper near her old diagram. They spent several minutes discussing the concept’s efficacy.

“… and with a proper application of this equation, it could be made to float as well. Simple!” He set the quill down.

“I would never have thought to use that one! Thank you Speaker.”

“It was nothing my friend, I merely walk on the shoulders of giants, as it were. Even my own achievements are but the latest expressions of our ancestors efforts.” He smiled again at her; had he just called her his friend? This day was beginning to improve in a hurry.

“Now, I must apologize to cut this a bit short but there is a meeting soon I must attend, but I will be sure to consider which individuals to send your way to help with this matter. And I will expect your prompt attendance next month at the contest, yes?”

“Of course! I’ll make sure to have this concept ready for your discerning eye, you have my word.”

“Glad to hear it. And please, don’t hesitate to call on me again should you require anything else. We are all peers here in Amaurot, no matter the position we hold. You yourself exemplify that ideal well in these halls with your guests and compeers. And the Convocation is ever ready to render aid to you in turn, especially in your position as the lead here.” He nodded his head.

“I am grateful to have finally been able to speak with you in person. I hope to do so more soon. And maybe borrow a work or two of yours of a more written variety sometime?” At this she could no longer hide her blushing embarrassment. The famed Speaker Lahabrea, creator of Ifrita, in her office, wanting to read her work? It was bordering on the surreal.

“Are you certain I am not dreaming, Speaker?”

He chuckled. “No, I am quite sure this is all real. And you better get used to the praise I think. I suspect you’ll be getting more of it in the future.”

At this she could only guess at his meaning.

“At any rate, I must away. Have a pleasant rest of your day. Until we meet again.” He bowed slightly and showed himself out. The door closed gently again, and she listened as his footfalls fell away down the hall outside. She exhaled deeply, then burst out laughing for a moment, letting off the tension.

“I swear I must have won a lottery or something. Maybe accepting this post really was the best thing I could have done?” She looked back down at the piece of paper, going over the notes he had written down near her old diagrams, and then, cracking her knuckles, set to work with a new sheet of paper to draw up a proper revision. Something that would be sure to repay his kind assistance, and which would look lovely in the lobby someday.

***

The memory finally began to break. She was sitting upright in… snow?

“Finally! Quick, she’s finally coming to everyone.”

She was propped up against a rock face not far from the road. The Observatorium spire was clearly visible some distance away, wispy smoke from it’s living quarters signaling the start of the early evening rituals, with servants preparing meals for the knights and astrologians and chocobos being fed and tended in the rear stable. Krile was next to her, having spent her time tending to the unconscious Warrior while the rest waited some distance away, watching for wildlife or passersby. They had been debating whether to take her further for medical treatment if she remained comatose any longer, but thankfully this was no longer necessary.

“Gods you’ve been out for bells! Are you alright? What did you see?” Krile placed a hand to her forehead to ensure she hadn’t caught a cold sitting as she had been in the snow in her robes.

“Ahh… I think… a vision of the Library? And my time there? Lahabrea… was there.” She was a bit groggy, as if waking up from an impromptu nap. Her clothing was wet from melting snow and ice below her. They hadn’t expected her to be out so long.

Emet, Urianger and Y’shtola arrived and huddled around her as she slowly returned to her feet. Ozma, her arcane companion, had disintegrated back into her aether upon her loss of consciousness, unsummoned and dormant once more.

“Another memory, this one more potent then most it would seem. But we shouldst speak of it in a warmer environment. The day grows long, and we would be wise to beat a swift track for the See, ere we find ourselves in colder temperatures. Mayhaps now would be an appropriate time to request a carriage in the Observatorium or Camp Dragonhead?”

“I agree, it would be prudent not to linger long out here. Much as I enjoy the brisk air, I believe we’ve sadly lost the leisure of walking to your long slumber.”

She stretched and shook her head in apology. “I hadn’t expected something so vivid on this trip. I suppose that image of the Library was… too close to home.”

Emet patted her on the shoulder. “ _Then the fault is mine hero. I had desired to show your friends a piece of your legacy, as you had begun to see, but it would seem it was a bit too much for the road. I still forget that such things will happen from time to time as you are reacquainted with your past.”_

His smile and hand were both soft and warm, coaxing from her the same. _“We’ll need to be careful with any future attempts at visual learning, hmm_?”

She nodded, humming acknowledgement, and radiating within her aether a desire to see more memories involving him, if she could but will them forth. She could tell he was picking up on this hint.

“Even so, and with my bottom soaked and cold, it was a nice memory. I’ll tell you all about it as we walk to the Observatorium. I think the knights there can spare a carriage for the Hero of Ishgard…”


	2. Strange Company Indeed

Several hours passed, and they were finally before the Gates of Judgement. A Durendaire carriage, embossed with the telltale bell of that noble house. They disembarked, thanking the porter for the short notice lift as he returned to his route heading for Whitebrim.

They each dusted stray feathers and hay from their clothes; they’d had to share a carriage with a chocobo that was being taken to Whitebrim for field treatment for a broken leg. It had spent most of the trip asleep, and between remarks on her memory vision the group had also returned to musing commentary on the ways in which the Words of Lahabrea had created and reared the first chocobos in the Anyder. Emet even told them a story about the first time Lahabrea showed him the supposed ‘chocobo to end all chocobos’ that he had concocted in his own time.

Coloured red and able to spit fire, it was a true terror when off the leash, which is why it was often kept in stasis and released only under close supervision and only on special occasions, such as when visitors from other cities came to marvel at the creations of Amaurot. Emet recalled with a smile at how this chocobo had been a popular attraction for the children of both Amaurot and the other cities, and had even spawned a short lived children’s book series, though he could not recall its name.

They chuckled together at this as they walked up the steps towards the main gate, and there with a nod were received by the knights, recognizing instantly the Scions and the Hero of Ishgard herself. Slayer of Nidhogg. They briefly greeted her respectfully with this latter title, one preferred by the knights in gratitude for her efforts to end the war that had claimed so many of them for so long. Emet silently regarded this further heaping of praise upon her, lost again in yet another memory of his own when he remembered the times she had been greeted upon her return to Amaurot, time and again, by only the title of Azem, but with no less gratitude and even, occasionally, some fanfare when she returned from particularly long and arduous journeys across the whole of the Star.

In her mind, she was simply reminded again to ask after a dragon or three if any could be found that day or the next in the city, and to gauge Emet when next she could as to his thoughts on dragonkind, and their history. A subject of great interest to her, given her many interactions with them.

Within another bell they were within the city proper, and made for the Congregation of our Knights Most Heavenly, where she had planned to meet Aymeric and Lucia, among others. The sun was finally beginning to dip downward in the sky as they pushed open the large wooden doors with a drawn out groan of metal and wood on stone. They found the place largely empty, aside from a couple knights overseeing inventory checks to one side, and Lucia hunched over the command desk, reviewing paperwork. She looked up with a smile.

“Welcome Scions. As always a pleasure.” She rose and walked towards them, taking in each face briefly before pausing and squinting her eyes, as if she’d mistaken the last of their number for another.

“I… see you have a guest, as you mentioned in your letter. Someone important and… familiar? Might I trouble you for your name good sir?”

He grinned. He’d started to actually enjoy these particular moments, when he knew someone would recognize him for what he had been.

“ _Now there is a face I thought I’d never see again. Lucia goe Junius, the image of your sister. And wearing Ishgardian colours now I see! T’would seem fate takes interesting turns indeed_!”

A deep bow. “ _Solus zos Galvus, at your service my dear. Though you should be forgiven for not recognizing me, I was a bit… older when last we met those many years ago now_.”

She froze, as if seeing a ghost, then backed away a step, confused. Sarah reached a hand outward to her in consolation.

“I mentioned in the letter that an explanation is in order. Pray forgive him his theatrics.” She glared at him. He smirked and rolled his eyes.

“ _Come now, I’ve been naught but a gentleman this entire trip, telling stories. It was about time I had a bit more fun don’t you think_?”

Another deep bow. “ _We have a great deal to discuss, Lucia. And a need to reintroduce ourselves, it would seem. If you would kindly take a seat_?”

She did not take her eyes off him, but gradually did as he bid along with the rest of the Scions and Sarah and sat down at chairs around the command desk. She cleared away tactical pieces and paperwork and bid one of the knights bring refreshments from the larder and signaled for the rest to take a break. Once the room was clear, she exhaled and shook her head.

“I… had not expected this. When you mentioned a guest I could not even begin to imagine it would be… am I actually having this conversation?”

“Yes. This is or, rather was, Solus. The man before you was, however, a great deal more then that. Allow me to explain.”

***

A half bell passed. Lucia was, unsurprisingly, stunned by these revelations. She barely touched the water brought by the knight before he saw himself out, mulling over as she did all that Sarah spoke of. She simply stared at Emet, mouthing the words of his title with her lips silently a few times in disbelief.

“All this time, and you…” She couldn’t finish a coherent sentence.

“I know it is a lot, trust me I know. We had many similar reactions in Revenant’s Toll, and I expect many more await us. That’s why we’ve come to Ishgard, so as to alleviate any confusion or fear that he might elicit with his presence in Eorzea.”

She looked down at the desk in silence. Her thoughts drawn to her sister, forever lost to her. Emet could sense this focus of hers, and understood in an instant what he needed to do. He rose from his seat.

“ _I understand that there is many things about your past that you regret, her loss included. That you have no reason to love the Empire or forgive me for the circumstances I created in your life as it’s founder. But I mean to do as Sarah said, to make amends, and perhaps most of all, people like you deserve my attention the most Lucia, for the reasons that are only all too familiar to your heart_.” She looked up at him, still silent but visibly confused again, tears in her eyes.

“ _Livia gave everything to what she believed in and valued. As did you. You served the Empire faithfully for many years prior to coming here and finding a better future. Think of Sarah and I in a similar way. I have chosen a new home and a new life, one that I can believe in under my own power. I gave everything I was to my own mission, and followed my convictions to the end. But, ultimately, I came to understand the shortcomings of my path as did you. In this way, we are not so different_.”

He reached into his coat and produced another silver broach, not unlike the one he had handed to one of the adventurers in the Toll some days ago. It bore the faces of two young girls, smiling and laughing together in a forest clearing. He handed it to her, and her eyes widened.

“What… how is this possible? We were alone that day!”

“ _Sarah spoke of our past. The world before, and what was once possible for anyone to weave with their thoughts and their souls. What could one day be possible again, if she and I are able to achieve a better future together. I would give to you a repayment on a debt I owe to you with this small gesture; a reminder of what once was, and what could one day be again, at duty’s end_.” She caressed her armored fingers over the features of the two girls rendered in silent silver. And then, a brief pain in her skull, like a stinging sensation behind her three eyes, followed by a recollection. That same moment, so long ago, when they had both been together, before losing their parents. Simple and carefree, playing in the forest outside their old home. She could practically smell the flowers and the grass on the wind again.

The tears finally came free, and she wept, emptying out a silent sorrow she had carried for years. Y’shtola and Sarah moved to comfort her a moment, glancing at one another. This gift seemed a bit more involved then the one Emet had handed to the Lalafellian adventurer in the Toll. It had prompted a memory almost akin to an Echo, as they could both readily sense. In answer to this, he continued to speak.

“ _It can do more then that, actually. But I leave that to Lucia to discover in her own time, seeing as it is tailor made to suit her soul. It is, however, not just a mere piece of jewelry in any case_.” He returned to his seat, interlacing his hands together in patient waiting, anticipating his next move.

“I… thank you. Thank you for this.” She finally returned to her present moment, and turned to him, wiping away her tears. “It will take time to process all of this and… understand this situation, with you and her but… thank you for this gift.”

“ _I only wish that I could do more, my friend. So much has changed since then. I am sorry for what happened_.”

“I appreciate it nonetheless.” She placed the broach on her armor, to the right of her neck brace, close to the pauldron, tied into a leather strap. “I doubt the Lord Commander will mind a little personal embellishment.”

She looked to Sarah. “Nidhogg’s slayer chooses strange company indeed. I know you have no end of suitors in the realm and yet you choose my former emperor.”

She shrugged and chuckled. “It’s still as much a surprise to me as anyone else. I killed him once, actually! Before I figured out how I felt. But that’s a story for another time.” She smiled at him in turn.

“I really should learn this broach trick for myself, given how well received it always seems to be. Heartfelt gifts on demand.”

“ _You’ll need to start catching up on your creation magicks then my dear. That approximation of them that you do while hunched over a goldsmithing table is hardly what I would call equal to what I can do. What you once could do. But there’s all the time in the world now to remember._ ”

“I wouldst also inquire as to these magicks, in time. They seem endlessly fascinating, and so defining of the august nature of our distant forebears. These creations should be impossible, given the limits of modern aetherial sciences and magical power drawn upon the essence of the soul, and yet, having witnessed it these many times now, I cannot but marvel at thine wonderous creations again and again and see the truth of the matter.” Urianger regarded from afar Lucia’s new broach, studying the intricacy of its design.

“That one could simply will things into existence with such ease. Simply amazing.”

Krile interjected. “There’d no longer be a want for anything in all the realm if everyone could do this again. It truly would be a paradise, as he describes.”

“ _Well, there were limits certainly, even in our day. But a large part of our success was learning such secrets and mastering them, in those long gone ages. We wanted for very little, and could grow and create through mundane means as well much of what we could not or chose not to create in this manner_.”

He gestured about the room, arms taking in the lamp lights of the Congregation, a soft yellowish orange glow illuminating those gathered around the desk.

“ _And always it is simply a matter of reclaiming what was once lost, which yet persists among you. The only question remains of the how. If not the Rejoinings, then some other way. Some other way that I suspect our dear hero spends a great deal of thought on, yes_?”

Sarah had locked her eyes on the broach again, this time more intently, after following Urianger’s gaze towards it. She did not respond.

“ _Oh not again_.”

She collapsed into another memory on the hard wooden floor.

***

The first vision to reach her was something more akin to the Echoes she was familiar with, though much more vivid. She played a role of observer, embodying someone she could not quite make out at first, observing two young girls playing in a forest clearing. She recognized them as the younger versions of Livia and Lucia, practically twins, long before they became the women she had known and, in one case, had been forced to kill.

The observer intrigued her more to know, and after a moment regarding his form determined it to be none other then Emet, around the time when his beard had started to grow but was as yet nowhere near the borderline Ramuh level it had been at the end of his time as Solus. Studying the moment’s recollection of his thoughts, she could determine that his mind was even then planning a dozen different schemes of various providence, and in this moment was regarding these two to consider how their threads of fate might soon be best put to service for Garlemald. He could tell even then they would be more useful than mere foot soldiers.

There was something else though, beneath the surface of that conscious level of planning, that had attracted his attentions. Some other feeling from his more distant past. She could reach out for it…

He had desired children with her, once. Had wanted to raise a new generation in the city with her, with their own offspring among them. The Ancients lived long, and reproduced slowly. Their society cherished every soul, and children most of all, for this reason. He had been denied so much by the Sundering, her included, but this thought had come to him time and again over the centuries and was also a source of deepest pain for him, though by this point he had numbed himself to it so that he could focus on the present. He had sired many, many children with many people over the years, not least being his children of late with Clivia. And hence their own children such as Varis who was, at this time, now a young man, eager to prove himself. But none of them would be the equal of that which he truly wanted. What he had desired with her, once.

He sighed eventually, and turned away, returning to more pressing matters. Always something…

***

Another vision.

A knock at the door. Evening over Amaurot, the lights starting to appear in the spires outside her windows. The lights of her office were drawn down to allow her to focus and think in peace. In the corner, a radio played smooth jazz music, the popular style of the era. A piano, a saxophone, cymbals and trumpets, mulling along.

“Come in.”

Her friend and fellow librarian Atramandes, and Emet-Selch, the Angel of Truth.

“Look who I found looking for you in the lobby my friend? Another Convocation member come to call on you.” He smiled, a white mask peeking out from beneath auburn red hair flowing freely under his robe hood.

“You certainly do get a lot of them coming around lately! Half their number have been in and out of here in as many months. I wouldn’t be surprised if they started holding meetings in here next!” The two of them chuckled as she looked up from her notes and smiled.

“ _Your friend was just telling me about his acceptance to the Words of Lahabrea, after the contest last week. I came to congratulate you both on excellent showings in the Forum, and to inquire as to the… Ozma was it? I wanted to see it again up close_.” He glanced around the room before noticing that now familiar silver cube, silent and still in holographic form, floating in stasis above a concept crystal on a plinth off to one side.

“I’ve turned it into a statue for the nonce. It isn’t working quite as I’d like, but Emmerololth assures me we can revisit the idea again sometime soon and make it work properly.”

He nodded and turned to her friend.

“ _It pleases me to hear it. Thank you for your time Atramandes. If I might have a moment alone now with the Chief Librarian_?”

“Of course, Angel. I look forward to seeing you both around the Anyder sometime! I’ll be along later to discuss the matter of my replacement and maybe some lunch tomorrow Persephone.” He smiled and waved at her briefly before turning and leaving, closing the door behind him.

“ _Your peers are quite an interesting group, here in the Library. Do you make a habit of befriending all of them_?”

“It just seems to come to me naturally. I couldn’t really explain why.” She was still half focused on her work, but bid him sit in the guest chairs, which he did after a moment longer spent regarding the frozen Ozma statue.

“ _An agreeable trait, and yet so vexing next to your shyness when we interact_.” He smirked knowingly, but elicited no response from her, consumed as she was with writing something.

“ _Late night_?”

“I was busy with tours and helping some of our guests today with finding tomes in the Natural History section. And there was an incident in the Romantic Fiction section; one of the guests got ‘stuck’ somehow in the stacks while trying to reach for a particularly saucey novel I wasn’t even aware we had in our collection still, given how many times it’s been taken out and subsequently made overdue. A few of us had to wedge them out with a bit of creative force.” They both chuckled together, her face finally raising from her work and placing her quill down on her desk.

“Just wanted to get caught up on some things before I headed home. How do you fare?”

“ _Well enough. In truth I just wanted the opportunity to see you again after the hustle and bustle lately, and after last week. I haven’t been able to visit the Library as much lately as I’d like with work. Coming here and taking in its relaxing atmosphere is a nice reprieve_.”

“I understand. The work of the Convocation is never done after all. Atramandes is right though, I do seem to be getting a surprising number of you coming to call on me lately. Ever since the flower.”

“ _A coincidence, I am sure. Though it was certainly inspired, that rose. I’ve put it to good use, and am told Halmarut already grows them for refinement in his Words greenhouse, in the Anyder. He made sure to remind me recently, knowing of my frequent visits, to tell you that you should come see him soon to see how they are getting along, and to offer input as to where best to plant them in nature_.”

“Far be it for me to tell the good Arbiter how to do his job. But I appreciate the offer and will try to find the time.” She placed her notes to one side.

“You wanted to see me though? Why ever would that be?”

“ _Oh… no particular reason. Any excuse is good_.” He smirked a bit, before catching himself. She continued to smile.

“Any excuse is good, yes. You are always welcome in my office Emet-Selch.”

He smiled, taking in the entirety of the room.

“ _I really aught to ask Hythlodaeus to help me redecorate my own office with more books and a radio. I don’t spend much time there but sitting in yours now, I can see why it’s so popular and inviting_.”

“You used to be an architect yourself too, as I recall.”

“ _Yes but I withdrew from that profession when I was elevated to my current station. I’m a tad… out of practice_.”

“I have some books on interior design just over here if you’d like to borrow them, refresh your memor-”

A knock at the door interrupted her. They exhaled a bit collectively, before she spoke.

“Come in.”

Elidibus, the Emissary.

“See what I mean? You really must try simply meeting together in here sometime.” Elidibus smiled, picking up on the meaning of her words.

“I hope I am not interrupting anything. Always a pleasure to see you Persephone.”

“Likewise.”

He turned to Emet. “There’s an urgent matter that requires your attention, and Lahabrea is convening a meeting for it. He told me you’d likely be here.”

“ _Of course, I think I have an inkling of what he speaks. Seems that duty calls_.” He turned back to Persephone.

“ _I’ll be sure to come calling again soon. I had a bit of a lesson I wanted to share with you, the one you requested on the Underworld? I’ve put it off too long and owe you for all the fascinating things you’ve shared with me here in the Library, after all_.”

“You don’t owe me a thing my friend, your presence is always payment enough, enjoyable as it is. Now go on. I have work to finish as well. We’ll speak again soon.”

He nodded, hesitating a moment in the chair before quickly exiting the room into the hall. Elidibus too seemed to hesitate at the door. She looked up from her desk at him. They exchanged kind smiles, and then he closed the door slowly.

A shift in perspective. They spoke softly to one another as they walked down the hall towards the stairs.

“Do you think she would make an ideal candidate, then? The others seem to be on the fence, except Lahabrea.”

“ _We can discuss it more tonight but… there is potential there. Her ease of forming connections will be a great asset. Humble to a fault_.”

“Humility perhaps but also a fire in her to border the Speaker’s own, when roused. I saw that well enough in the Forum when she brought out that cube. She almost seemed to want to hop atop it and fly it around for all and sundry to see.”

“ _Or put it in her mouth_.” Elidibus gazed at him quizzically.

“ _She has strange habits, for learning about new subjects, sometimes. Don’t ask_.”

He shrugged.

“I like her, and would be honoured to work with her well enough. I have to wonder though. She seems quite happy in her current role. Would she truly wish to give all this up and go traveling?”

They paused at the top of the stairs.

“ _I think, when the time comes, she will embrace that aspect of the role with relish. But I’ll make sure to ask her first_.”

Emet gestured down to the lobby. “ _Shall we_?”

They proceeded down the steps.

Her vision began to fade; she’d drifted from her own past to his, as if the two were almost one and the same, despite being in that moment separated. It was mildly disorientating.

***

“How soon do I find you back in my infirmary my friend.”

Aymeric de Borel, Lord Commander of the Temple Knights and Speaker for the House of Lords. Standing over her at the side of a Congregation infirmary bed. Emet and the others were huddled in a corner with Lucia, talking. With a wave to them, they came to his side.

“Seems I’m not the only one in need of rest then.” Krile smiled, a little worried. “You’ve had quite a few of these today; are you sure everything is alright?”

“I feel fine Krile, truly. I think I’m just… more attuned to memories coming back and they’re overwhelming my Echo.”

“ _As I said before then, we’ll need to be more careful with anything that might elicit a direct response, at least when out on the road. I’ll try to be more vigilant my dear_.”

She smiled and nodded at him as she roused herself to sit up on the bed.

“Your friends told me about your ‘guest’ here, and Lucia especially related everything that happened prior to your collapse. It was certainly a lot to take in, like you spoke of in your missive. I did not think that it would be him, of all people. Brings to mind what Varis spoke of at the peace conference in Ghimlyt.”

“ _I still struggle to see what he was trying to accomplish with that little stunt, myself. Probably just upset at me and wanted to vent his frustrations. He never could bear the burden of truth easily_.”

“I can see why.” Aymeric turned to Emet.

“I know a thing or two about learning uncomfortable truths from one’s father, and can at least relate in the sense of it being… disquieting for one’s own sense of self and one’s own sense of agency. Were I in his position I would probably have done similarly.”

“ _A thousand year war with dragons and a false conviction towards faith in a misremembered goddess, drawn from the lips of a primal in a heart to heart with his bastard son. One could write a whole book about that I wager_.”

“I’ll have to re-read Edmont’s account then.” Sarah smiled. If Aymeric had any reaction at all to this, he did not show it readily, simply continuing a weak, polite smile as normal.

“ _I look forward to meeting him tomorrow then, time permitting. But I think it best to rest now, the hour has grown late, and you’ve had plenty of excitement in that mind of yours as it is_.” Emet returned her smile.

“I’ll have to agree with your emperor’s assessment there, my friend. You fell face first onto a hard wooden floor, and were out of it for bells. You deserve a rest and are allowed to make use of this room tonight in privacy as you like.” Aymeric motioned for the others to leave.

“Emet can remain of course, given your… circumstances.” He seemed ever so slightly uncomfortable acknowledging their relationship.

“Thank you Lord Commander. I believe you owe me a dinner date too, time permitting?” She smirked a bit at him as he lost his prior easy continence and turned away, face unreadable.

“Ah yes, I had been meaning to make good on that with you, yes. I’ll need to… discuss the matter with my kitchen staff, prepare a suitable meal. Emet is welcome to join us, if it pleases him?”

“ _I have no requirement for sustenance, but I dare say the stimulating conversation and atmosphere alone will be enough to sustain me for a week. Count me in_.” He smirked, mimicking hers. She wasn’t all that far off from him in this respect.

Aymeric, for his part, felt as though he’d been wedged into some manner of liver cheese sandwich, and was eager to clear his head.

“Well, if there was nothing else, I’d like to get back to my duties before retiring for the evening. We’ll speak again tomorrow when you come to the Vault. Good evening to you Sarah, and to you Scions.” He turned to leave.

“And… a good evening to you as well, Emet-Selch.” A momentary pause, and then he was gone, still unreadable.

“We’ll leave you both to your rest. I might like to join that dinner party myself, if it’s an open invitation. Should be entertaining.” Y’shtola smirked too, chuckling a bit herself with her right hand to her face. She’s not far off from him in that respect either, Emet thought to himself as she and the other Scions and Lucia moved to leave the room.

How very familiar indeed.

***

She laid back into the pillows of her infirmary bed. The room had grown dark, lights put out, and she was alone. Emet had retired to the Azem stone and was presently dormant. The Scions had gone to rest in the Forgotten Knight.

She thought about what she’d seen today. Of her life, now brought into yet more clarity. A librarian though? And not just any but the administrator of the Library, perhaps the first of its kind in the world, going back into that other time. Generations of scholars and historians and authors, pouring their souls and minds into a single place, that she had been responsible for. Who knew for sure how long she’d worked there? How she’d risen to that role. But it clearly seemed, after today, to have been the vector for her eventual ascension to the Convocation. The means by which she had caught their attentions, among other things, and how she had first drawn his attention.

For this final facet of that reality, she was most grateful, clutching the Azem stone to her breast and feeling its familiar warmth as he slept within.

She thought back onto the other memory she had been given of him specifically, as Solus. It seemed to her their bond was tightening in such a way that, when some strong emotional connection of his was visually presented to her, a memory that elicited a vivid response in his own soul, she was drawn into it to see it through her Echo. The pattern of the visions still seemed a bit uncertain, however, given what she’d seen afterwards.

Then she turned her mind towards the thought of children. And his sorrows on that matter. They in turn welled up inside her, and she found herself weeping in short order, using a tissue from the bedside table to clear her eyes. She was, in this moment, grateful he remained asleep, unable to hear or feel her relive his pain in this manner. To think he’d carried this around for such a long time…

That alone was reason enough to try and make this whole thing work. Though she doubted, on this specific subject, if they would be able to have children. Or if she would even want any at this juncture of her life. She’d honestly never given it much thought, or had much opportunity. Or desire. Her work spoke for her legacy, she thought. And children deserved a better world to live in then the world she could provide, and certainly now that she knew what the future had in store in terms of further struggles towards something at least approximating her desired outcomes. Things would have been different, in Amaurot. In that other life. Now?

She sighed. Just something else to try and talk to him about soon. Add it to the growing list.

She picked the stone up off her chest and looked up at it, caressing it again in her hands. It’s orange sheen and white, circular lines. Like a Monad, an All Made One. An old concept from the earliest Astral eras, of a primordial demiurge or God, which had preceded the Twelve in the time before time. The sun providing center and orbiting balance for many stars. A singularity of being. It almost seemed to radiate a sort of solitude in ironic contrast to its current occupant.

In truth, it was a burden for her alone, even with his return to her side. Something that, in some ways, precluded children or the sharing of a legacy. This was a role that was meant to be passed between elected individuals, not heirs. And, for the foreseeable future, it was hers alone. She who had remained committed to her own convictions, though now she was uncertain of them. Whence had they come? From herself before, from Azem? Or from Hydaelyn? Or had they perhaps been muddled over the millennia and required re-evaluating?

As if to muddle her mind further, she also thought back on the encounter of the night before, of Elidibus in her dreams. Of Zodiark. Where did they fall into all this?

Another thing to add to the growing list. Another sigh.

A problem for future Sarah. She was exhausted. She’d figure it all out with Hades in time. Figure this all out. She’d always figured things out. She’d figure this out too. It just needed time and patience. Always more time and patience.

She placed the stone back down upon her chest and smiled down at it before drifting into a dreamless sleep.


End file.
